Silhouette Covers Novels & Stories

Or just a pale imitation, a ghost haunting the spaces between who I’d been and who I hoped to become? The days had stretched into a monotonous blur since William’s final betrayal. I drifted through each one like a shadow, reluctant to fully wake or completely surrender. I avoided calls, ignored messages, and stayed locked inside this room, wrapped in the suffocating silence that felt both like protection and punishment.

I looked like a blade that had just been sharpened. ​The Gift of the Midnight Silk ​When I finally climbed out of the water, Kaelen was waiting with a garment that looked like it had been woven from the night sky itself. It was "Midnight Silk"—a fabric made from the cocoons of the Shadow-Moths that lived in the Dead Boundary. ​It was black, but as the light hit it, it shimmered with ripples of violet and deep blue. It was cold to the touch, but as I slipped it over my head, it warmed instantly, molding to my curves like a second skin.

Celestine muttered when the cell phone was not found. Celestine frowned when she saw a figure dressed in all black sitting beside her apartment door. Her footsteps slowed down as her heart beat faster. The fatigue after a long day of work was mixed with an undefinable sense of anxiety. The closer she got to the person, the more bone-chilling cold she felt. What if that person is a psychopath? That person could be Lilyana's hater and was now targeting her because she was Lilyana's manager. Celestine shuddered in horror, but curiosity made her get closer to that person. Who? Celestine couldn't even see his face.

It was an extremely rare, first-edition printing of The Wealth of Nations paired with an original collection of industrial-era philosophical essays—the precise texts they had fiercely debated during their very first official night in the penthouse. Jillian opened the heavy cover. The aged paper crackled softly in the quiet room. But it wasn't the rare print that made Jillian’s chest tighten; it was what was written on the inside cover. Glued to the parchment was the original, burnt fragment of the first page of their companionship agreement—the section containing their names and the original title, The Silhouette of Us—saved from the hearth before it could turn completely to ash. Beneath it,

Silas roared. Before the bolts could even reach the base of the hill, Silas shifted into his colossal, nine-foot black shadow-wolf form. He leaped ahead of my horse, his massive body intercepting the first three bolts, his star-silver armor deflecting the deadly null-iron into the dirt. Around us, the elite vanguard raised their shields, creating an impenetrable wall of steel and starlight that kept the enemy fire from touching my skin.

And the monster underneath it finally reveals itself, the Collins - series Obsidian, black, massive looking like a predator itself. Even buried under dust and grime, the shape is unmistakable. My throat tightens. “I would recognize this silhouette anywhere, “ I murmur, my voice rough has hell. “Even in hell,” I grunt out as I smash the side, which causes a dent in the side. I step closer, the front hood catches the light, and my breath stops, it's bent, a jagged misalignment, like a scar. Slowly, I reach out and press my palm against the hood.

a sound of a thousand different histories merging into a single, jagged frequency. "Lyra!" Silas said, his gaze meeting hers. Lyra didn't speak. She used her shadow-wings to create a massive, violet canopy that covered the warriors, shielding them from the first wave of the claw’s "Neutralization" beam. She felt the sensory reality of the army—the way their different powers were trying to "find a home" within each other. The knight’s iron magic was merging with the pilot’s electricity; the liquid metal creature was coiling around the wooden titan.

out of his own soul. The Board-members recoiled, their silver forms flickering with static. "**UNAUTHORIZED MODIFICATION! SYSTEM INTEGRITY: 40%!**" "I am not a protocol!" Silas roared. He lunged at the Board-members, his shadow-blades erupting from his wrists—not white, but a deep, midnight-violet that burned with the intensity of a dying sun. He slashed through the first Board-member, the liquid silver dissolving into a puddle of "Rejected Data."

My hands moved with clinical precision, sweeping essential supplies into the bag: concentrated antibiotics, surgical kits, and several vials of Liquid Silver. Then, my eyes landed on a small, unassuming box of amber glass bottles—synthetic pigment drops used for ocular reconstruction after trauma. Silas used these himself whenever he traveled into the human world to make the business deals that expanded his pack’s wealth; they were the only thing that could mask his predatory silver eyes, turning them a dull, unremarkable brown for an entire day. I didn't know why I was taking them, but something deep inside me urged me to shove the entire box into my bag.

He locks both of the silhouette’s arms on his thigh and took over in my stead to lock its leg with his hands. I hurriedly took the sheathed black sword that was on the ground. The silhouette struggles as much as it could, but it can’t seem to get out. “Hah!” I cladded my sheathed sword with ‘Offensive Cladding’— hammering it downwards to its head. BAM!!! Blaze’s silhouette immediately breaks down to black ashes. C-CRIK! This sound… Kuroyuki’s ice is breaking…!?